


when sunshine comes around

by whalesongs



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, addict, but i bet harry styles does, i don't know anything about meeting strangers outside clubs, let alone kissing them, louis is pretty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:36:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalesongs/pseuds/whalesongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry used to be addicted to bad things and when Louis shows up, with his incredibly blue eyes and sweet smile, Harry can’t figure out why someone like Louis wants anything to do with someone like him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when sunshine comes around

**Author's Note:**

> so, i wrote this ages ago but it was ziall and i'd posted it only tumblr. it's still there, but i hope no one's read it. just in case you have, i've changed it a bit so don't freak out halfway through and be like 'oi this story is stolen'  
> sorry if i'm not a good writer and i'm about to waste your time or ruin your life.   
> xo  
> p.s. there might be mistakes.

Harry throws his head back as he swallows, the burning liquid slipping down his throat much too easily. He wipes the sweat from his palms on the material of his trousers, letting out a shaky breath as his head lightens and the smoke filled air around him becomes thicker.

The bass of the music pumps in time with his pulse and each time a new beat plays, his heart rate changes, either slowing or picking up the pace. It’s exhilarating and Harry can never get enough of the party atmosphere, but something about tonight just feels like it’s beginning to press against him, the need for air becoming dangerously vital.

People swaying from side to side, pressed together in heated contact, surround him and in each direction he’s met with a new face. An hour ago Harry was weightless. Carefree. On top of the world. But now, only an hour after midnight and plenty more time to party, Harry feels low. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but suddenly everything hurts and the world feels dangerous. And he doesn’t want to be here, with strangers and bright lights.

Pushing past sweaty bodies and making his way off the dance floor, Harry stumbles out the back exit, breathing in the fresh air and falling back to lean against the cold brick wall of the building.

He digs his phone from his pocket, groaning as he reads through the messages from the past two hours.

From: Zayn 9:21pm

_Oi, where are you? I just got home and you were gone. I know you've got that shit on you Harry. Don't you dare take anything!_

From: Zayn 9:48pm

_Harryyyyyyyy! Reply you twat_

From: Zayn 10:07pm

_I'll call your mother. Don't make me do it Styles_

From: Zayn 11:01pm

_Come home! You can't keep doing this. It's not fair on yourself!_

He doesn’t hesitate to delete the last one, feeling just a little guilty. Harry’s always there for him, ever since they met at the clinic, he’s been nothing but caring. But sometimes, only sometimes, Harry need to get away.

He’s thinking too much. Alcohol is supposed to lift him up, not send his mood crashing into the dirt. Reaching to his back pocket, Harry retrieves his gateway solution. The bag’s wrapped tightly and it feels small in Harry's fingers. How could something so life changing fit so perfectly in his hand?

His hands tremble slightly as he tugs at the rubber band securing the top. He'd promised himself not to use the powder, fuck he’d promised almost everyone he knows, but... it’s been a bad week. What damage could one little hit do?

"You know that stuff can kill you, right?"

Harry jumps on the spot, head snapping up to meet the concerned gaze of the boy only meters away from him. He can’t be much older than Harry, but god is he something. Everything about him from the ruffled brown hair, to the small shoulders, olive skin and the way his left foot is tucked behind his right as he leans against the wall opposite has Harry's heart pounding rapidly.

It takes a moment for Harry to finally piece his mind back together and gather the words for a reply

"Who are you?"

The man's eyes drop to gaze at Harry's hands, then at the ground. He’s confused for a moment, but soon catches on when he notices the empty feeling in his hand. He’s dropped the bag.

His attention now focusing on scanning the ground, Harry didn’t notice the stranger move closer so he was now only a few steps away from him.

"It's addictive too." He states, eyes watching Harry's every move as he frantically searches the dark ground. "But, I'm guessing you already know-"

"I'm not an addict." Harry snaps back, trying to ignore the chills running through his body after hearing his voice, his Yorkshire accent thick and bright.

"Then why do you-"

"I'm recovering." Harry replies, too quickly to have not been rehearsed over and over in his mind if he'd ever be faced with a situation like this.

"No offence mate, but shouldn't someone recovering from cocaine not have a bagful in their pocket?" At this, Harry looks up to face those eyes once again, which he knows notes as a light and shining blue. It’s heart-warming, almost.

 _Jesus Harry, get it together_. This is his fault Harry lost the bag, if he hadn't snuck up on him.

"Who are you?" Harry’s voice sounds far too demanding and he almost regrets opening his mouth.

The man looks almost shocked, pausing for a moment as if considering his answer. Harry absentmindedly taps his foot impatiently as he waited for a reply.

"It's Louis." Is what he finally hears. Louis. It sounded nice in his head, kind and innocent.  
Quickly pushing those thoughts away, he glares at Louis, hoping it looks convincing.

"Well, Louis, thanks to you I have just lost 3 weeks of my pay. So, well done." Harry says, making sure sarcasm is well detected in the last line.

Louis only smirks and Harry has to hold himself back from pouncing on him right there. Did he think this was funny?

"But, if I didn't say something then you would have taken the drugs." Louis replies, concern lingering in his words and merging its way into Harry's thoughts, adding to the butterflies in his stomach.

"So?"

"You said you're recovering. What if you took that and there was no going back?" Louis' expression is soft and Harry almost feels the need to pinch himself because why would somebody like Louis be speaking, with such concern and kindness in his voice, to someone like Harry?

"Don't talk like you know me." Harry proceeds, locking down his walls and doing his best not to give in to the warm feeling in his chest begging him to just _smile_ at Louis, to show him some kind of appreciation for having just saved him. Saved him from turning back into the pathetic version of himself he used to be.

"I'm not. I'm just helping."

"Fuck off. I don't need help." The words feel sour in Harry's mouth and as soon as they leave his lips, they’re regretted.

"No can do. I'm involved now."

"I'm not about to jump off the back of a ship. I know what I'm doing." Rolling his eyes, Harry attempts to tear his gaze away from Louis', but every time he tries Louis either smiles sweetly or simply blinks, and Harry finds himself being sucked back in.

Louis is kind. Unlike most people Harry’s stumbled across during his late nights, this man in front of him seems to be interested in nothing but making sure Harry doesn’t find those drugs. It’s almost disappointing to Harry because honestly, it'd been years since he's met someone this sweet and just genuinely gorgeous, what happens when the conversation between the two ends? Guys like Louis don’t associate with guys like Harry. At least, that’s the message Harry now has fixed in his brain, being sure not to get his hopes too high. Ever.

"What's your name?"

The question catches Harry off guard and he stutters at his words before finally blurting something that sounds more like Zone, but the smile on Louis face and the way he repeats Harry's name with bright eyes and flushed cheeks makes Harry weak at the knees. He finds himself very grateful of the wall behind that’s supporting most his weight

"Let's forget about the drugs for a moment," Louis suggests and Harry manages a weak, confused nod. "Do you come here often?"

"Uhm," Harry replies, wondering why on earth Louis is asking him this. "Not really. I've been before, but not often."

"Yeah, it's a bit shabby. I heard the DJ sleeps in the store room."

Harry couldn't help a chuckle escaping. If this was Louis' attempt at a distraction, then it was working. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” Harry mutters awkwardly, hoping he sounds sincere because honestly, he is. He wants Louis to know that too.

“It’s fine. How can I be mad at such a pretty face?”

Harry blushes to his hairline. At the same time, he also feels himself relax, glad Louis is much more forgiving than he’d expected. But there’s a small thought in the back of Harry’s mind and he can’t help but ask the question now lingering on his lips.

"Why are you here?” Harry finally asks, “And I mean, here in this alleyway. Why did you come talk to me?” Louis doesn’t look like the type of person to hang around the back entrance of clubs. To be precise, he doesn’t look like the type of person to be even near a club. He has a charm of innocence.

"I work at the Arcade 'round the corner, was just walking home and I happened to see you down here. I don't usually introduce myself to drug addicts- shit, recovering, right- but you looked a little... on edge. Had me a little worried." Louis shrugs, totally unaware of just how much those words really affect Harry.

Worried. Louis had been worried and shit, how on earth was that tiny thought of this gorgeous man being the slightest bit worried about Harry making him feel so… giddy. Totally stripping Harry of his cool interior and replacing it with the feelings of a teenage girl.

"So, you live nearby?" Harry mentally slaps himself as soon as the question is asked, sounding too forward, but Louis only grins.

"Just round the next block. Interested in coming over?" He smirks.

"No, I- god, I didn't mean it like- not that I'm not interested, I was just-"

"Relax; I was just messing with you." Louis laughs and Harry lets out a shaky breath he wasn't even aware he was holding.

"Oh. Sure.”

Harry’s not sure why he’s being so bloody nervous. He’s usually so calm and collected. But Louis tears all that down, with something as simple as a smile. He takes another step further and Harry swallows nervously.

“Are you okay?” Louis voice is almost a whisper now and it feels intimate. Harry opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out and he hopes he doesn’t look as lame as he feels. Harry becomes so distracted by his thoughts of blue eyes, sweet smiles and bleached hair, it takes him a moment to work out that Louis has now taken another step forward that leaves both boys now only centimetres from each other. And _shit_ , it feels amazing just to be so close. Harry feeds off the purity of Louis eyes, losing himself amongst blue.

 “Why do you do it, Harry?” Warm breath tickles at Harry’s skin, sending more chills down his spine.

“Do what?” He finally manages.

“The drugs. Why did you turn to them tonight?” Louis’ eyes never leave Harry’s, which plays with both Harry’s heart strings and nerves.

“I was told there was a chance of relapse. I guess I’ve had a bad week.”

 “How so?”

Harry swallows down hard, wondering whether he should lie or tell Louis the truth. For some reason, he settles on the latter and tries to find a way to word his answer without sounding completely delusional.

“I think things just got bottled up. Like, everything’s being pushed to the back of my mind somewhere and now the spaces are running out and there’s no more room. And I guess- I guess I’m just waiting to burst. But I don’t want to burst, because I’m scared of what I’ll do, or what others will think.” 

Louis replies with a subtle nod, filled with a hint of something more than sympathy. Harry still can’t understand how Louis can be so accepting of the ex-drug addict standing in front of him.

“Yeah. I get it. ”

And that’s pretty much it for Harry. That’s the moment Harry decides Louis is probably the most wonderful person he’ll ever meet because never, in his entire life, had he met someone that simple ‘got it’. It both startles and excited Harry.

“Not many people do.”

So then, Louis tanned hand slowly raises, brushing past Harry’s chest and sliding into his dark, curly hair. It moves slowly, fingers digging into his skin and massaging the spot soothingly. Harry feels frozen, unable to do anything but just _watch._ Watch Louis’ expression, the way his lips are slightly turned upwards and his gaze flickers from Harry’s lips to his eyes.

Harry briefly wonders how this night could possibly take such an amazing turn and how Louis’ eyes are just _so fucking blue_ , when Louis’ hands falls to cup his cheek.

 “Louis.” He whispers. He’s not sure if it’s a question or an approval of _yes, keep going._

He expects Louis to pull away, like he’s snapping back into reality, but nothing changes. Except the beating of Harry’s heart from rapid to absolutely-fucking-mental. Instead, Louis’ thumb rubs tiny circles on his burning skin. He smiles, wide and full of teeth.

“I’m going to be blunt,” Louis says, and Harry sucks in a breath. “I’m gay. And you’re really- you’re really pretty. But you’re nice too. Really nice. It’s been a while since I’ve met someone nice. You’re different. And, I don’t care about the drugs. Honestly.”

Harry has to stop himself from gaping. His mind is running at a thousand thoughts a second right now, spinning and bumping into each other.

Louis. This completely alluring blue eyed angel approached _him._ He took a chance and spoke to Harry when he was falling into one of his darkest moments. He doesn’t want to say ‘fate’, but he can’t help but believe that this sort of thing just doesn’t happen very often. Or at all, more like. Louis is everything wonderful; why not give in to that?

 “I’m going to kiss you.” Louis murmurs quietly, like a secret. “Because I’ve wanted to since the moment you made eye contact with me.”

Harry’s never felt the need for more time. Time to collect himself. Time to lick his lips and fix his hair and make sure the taste of that cigarette he had an hour ago isn’t still on his lips. The only thing he has time to do is blink, before Louis’ eyes are closing and soft, thin lips are against his own.

Louis kisses different. It’s gentle and caring and sends warmth through Harry’s body, lighting him up like the sun. He tastes like vanilla ice cream and the hand now around his waist feels protective. And he allows himself to let go.

He wants to go on forever, just lips moving together slowly, but soon enough Louis steps back and the cool air has forced its way between them again. His cheek feels cold. He studies Louis’ face, takes in his pink cheeks and windswept hair and red lips and sparkling eyes and he’s glowing, giving off an incredible light that Harry immediately drinks in. Finally catching his breath, Harry allows himself to speak.

“You look like the sun.”

Louis laughs, tilting his head back. Harry wants to watch him do that forever.

 “Well,” Louis continues to smile. “My place?”

Harry catches on quickly, eyes widening. He doesn’t waste any time, nodding twice. Louis takes another step back, eyeing Harry up and down before turning away.

 “Are you coming, or not?” He calls back, and Harry’s body finally kicks into gear. With his first step, his foot lands on something thick and round. Looking down, he lifts his leg. He stares, surprised, at the small bag, tempting and dangerous. Louis’ gaze burns into Harry’s skin as he bends down to pick it up. He turns to Louis with frightened eyes, the poisonous powder wrapped tightly in his hand.

Louis’ lips tug slightly, sending Harry the smallest of smiles.

And then the bad feelings are gone. The need, the dependence and the temptation is slowly supressed by something bright and loving.

Harry doesn’t break eye contact with Louis as he shrugs, embracing the new feeling for the blue eyed boy in front of him instead of the ugly solution waiting in his palm, and in a swift moment he tosses the bag over his shoulder, away into the darkness.

Louis’ face immediately shines and Harry shines right back, walking towards him and holding out his land, palms pressing together and fingers linking as they walk the streets to Louis’ flat.

 “Tell me more about yourself, Harry.” Louis grins cheekily, and Harry does. He learns to talk with Louis like he never has with anybody else. As he will do the next night. And the following day. And the following weeks and months to come.

Louis keeps him grounded, giving him a feeling of safety and secureness. And as Louis finally presses his lips to Harry’s again that serendipitous night, hands exploring every part of his body, Harry feels a new addiction coming on, one he hopes he’ll never have to give up on.

 

 


End file.
